Tempora Inter
by devention
Summary: The in-between time. Post EoD, KKBB compliant. Warnings for angst, violence, and cursing. Canon ships, team-Torchwood. Character-centric. There is no plot.


**Title:** Tempora Inter

**Summary: **The in-between time. Post-EOD, KKBB compliant

**Rating:** K+

**Warnings**: language, angst, violence

**Characters/Pairings**: Team Torchwood; canon ships

**Genre:** post-ep, gap filler, character-centric

**Length**: ~2600 words

**Author's Notes**: Because there can never be enough post-EOD fic. Ever.

_He's gone. Jack's gone._

They stand there in stunned silence after Gwen says it, just for a few moments. Just long enough to realise what she's said.

"Where'd he go?" Tosh asks tentatively. No one's moved yet.

"I don't know," Gwen replies. "He was here one moment, then…"

"That bloody hand is gone," Owen growls. He looks and sounds furious and starts pacing.

Ianto sets the coffee down and rubs his temples, trying to quell the oncoming headache before it gets a chance to start. "Maybe he's just gone to the loo," he suggests. "He was in a—a coma or something for three days." It's a desperate idea, and he knows it. Tosh, to her credit, doesn't give him a pitying look. Gwen does.

"Why'd he bring the hand, then?" Owen asks, tone suggesting he thinks Ianto is a complete moron.

"It's _Jack_," Tosh tries. Owen snorts derisively.

"Tosh, pull up CCTV," he instructs. "Gwen, Ianto, we're gonna go see if we can find a trace of him."

No one moves again, because reality has just shifted. Owen is in charge, fulfilling his role as second in command. Ianto tries to keep his knees from shaking.

They don't find Jack, but Owen isn't surprised. Based off the choppy, grainy footage Tosh somehow managed to coax out of the surveillance system, Jack had set off on his own at quite a clip.

Tosh looks dejected, Gwen disappointed and just _sad_, which is nearly unbearable. Their faces just add to Owen's anger, which he's doing his best to project over the distress he's feeling. Ianto's posturing with hurt little boy body language, but he's obviously trying to look impassive.

Gwen's first to leave, to run home and seek comfort from her boyfriend. Owen's a little jealous of her and of him. He and Tosh leave together shortly after her, go to one of the near-by pubs. Owen gets shit-faced for what he suspects will be the last time for a while. Tosh drives him home and sleeps on his couch, because she doesn't want to be alone in her flat, not tonight. Truth be told, Owen feels the same way. He's not sure if he says it out loud. He's not sure if he even cares.

He doesn't know if Ianto leaves, but he suspects he doesn't.

_They all hate Nepal and the pointless mission. By the time they get back, Harry Saxon is dead and so is the American President-elect. They don't bother to find out what happens to Lucy Saxon._

Two weeks into the After Jack Era, Gwen walks into the Hub to see Tosh and Owen sitting at Tosh's desk, laughing hard.

"What's so funny?" she asks, heading toward them curiously.

Ianto sweeps in with coffee for her. "Wossy," he supplies, shooting her a small grin and rolling his eyes. Gwen thinks it's affectionate, and she can't help the beam that comes to her face or the mad giggling that follows.

It's the first time since Jack left that they've all smiled.

Tosh puts her head on her desk and tries not to cry. She's exhausted, frustrated with this damn algorithm, and sick of Gwen and Owen butting heads over leadership, because they always bring her and Ianto into it. She feels like a child listening to mommy and daddy fight all the time.

It doesn't help that she's worried about them all the time. They barely communicate at all, anymore; Owen seems happy to just bitch them all out and tell them where to go and what to do. Gwen keeps to gossip and shouting at Owen. Tosh limits herself largely to technobabble, because that doesn't cause trouble. Ianto stopped talking altogether sometime last week and doesn't seem interested in starting again.

She needs fucking break. Desperately. She gets up and walks determinedly over to Gwen. "Lunch?" she says, trying to make it sound like there's no room for argument.

Gwen looks up with a relieved smile; _maybe_, Tosh thinks, _I'm not the only one who needs a break_. "Oh, you bet," Gwen sighs.

They go to one of the nicer restaurants on the Plass, and once they get there, neither one of them can seem to shut up.

"I'm worried," Gwen admits, "about Owen."

"Oh, God, me too," Tosh says, happy to not be alone.

"It's not that I think he's incapable—"

"_Jack_ could barely handle us," Tosh says. Gwen's face flashes at the mention of their old leader, but Tosh doesn't feel bad about it. They need to get over it. She's been hurt before, and she's moving past it. Unlike _some_ people—not that she'd ever say so to Gwen; it would just be mean—Jack Harkness was never the end-all be-all of her life.

"I just want to help him."

"Try talking to him alone, Gwen," Tosh says gently. "He's never going to back down with the rest of us there."

"OK," Gwen says, smiling. "That's a good idea. Thank you, Tosh."

"No problem," Tosh says.

They both feel better for the hour or so it takes them to eat and the other hour or so they talk about boys and girls and guns and cars.

But when they leave, it's because their phones are alerting them to the rift.

_ when you die, how much does it hurt?_

_ to say Jack is furious wouldn't even begin to cover his feelings. he's never wanted to kill someone so much in his life, and he doubts, if he had the happy opportunity, that he wouldn't enjoy it. he can't talk, though, because he's missing half his jaw. it's a cold comfort to know he'll be dead soon, especially with Tosh's head staring up at him like that._

_ does it hurt as much to know she's dead?_

_ it hurts more, but he'll never let the Bastard know that._

Ianto is sick, but he won't cop to it. There's no real surprise, there, but Owen's just getting annoyed. The air of 'dead-man-walking' that the younger man projects has to come from somewhere, and Owen can see how pale and drawn he is even when he _chooses_ not to go down the stairs to autopsy to bring coffee or collect files.

"Physical time!" he calls while everyone is in the main Hub. He leans against the banister and watches Tosh's and Ianto's fingers fly to the tips of their noses. Gwen looks at them all like they're mad.

"What?"

"You're up first, boss," he says, annoyed, but partly amused at the expression on her face.

Gwen is dehydrated and a bit underweight, and she gets a diet sheet and a lecture about taking care of herself better. Tosh is having trouble with her eyes and stomach, one of which Owen is sure is caused by the amount of time she spends staring at her computer, the other stress-induced. She gets strict instructions to get out more.

Ianto is having the same hearing trouble he'd been having since Canary Wharf, which is unsurprising. His temperature is almost 38 degrees, which is also unsurprising. And he's underweight, which is even less surprising.

"Home. Go." When Ianto doesn't move, he adds, "Now." He speaks deliberately, like he's talking to a man who's both slow and deaf. Which, he reflects, he sort of is. He shoves the bag with the antibiotics into Ianto's hands and pushes him toward the stairs.

"But—"

"Believe it or not, we can survive without a butler for a couple days. Go home and get some sleep. Quit being such a stubborn liability."

Ianto looks like he wants to say something, but Owen is confident that his use of 'liability' makes the words stick in his throat.

Once in a while, Ianto looks up at Jack's office and wonders if he'll ever come back. He _misses_ Jack. Jack kept them—kept _him_—safe at night.

Gwen puts her gun in her waistband. "Tosh, you OK?"

"I think my ankle's busted," she responds, sounding like she's in a great deal of pain. "You?"

"I'm alright." She helps Tosh up and supports her to the SUV. "Owen," she says into her comm.

"What?" He's annoyed. Prick.

"Tosh hurt her ankle," she tells him, trying not to sound annoyed herself. She's fairly certain she succeeds.

"Great," he groans. "Get her back here. Did you get that thing?"

"Yep," Gwen replies. She doesn't look behind her at the bodies. "Send Ianto 'round to clean up. There are some dead folks here."

And doesn't she feel like shit about that.

"Here," Owen says, placing the cup of tea on her bedside table. She pulls the comforter closer around herself and doesn't touch the drink.

"What now?" she asks. God, the aftermath of sex with _Mary_ was less awkward than this.

"I don't know," Owen replies. She's honestly surprised he's still here. "Maybe nothing should happen."

He's probably right, but she can't help wishing.

_ Jack!_

_ he can't look at her, and he can't look at him, and he **especially** can't look at Him. psychotic bastard._

_ yeah, Jack, He says, laughing. why don't you look at the poor thing?_

_ he can't look at her; most of her skin is gone. Rhys is dead next to her._

_ Jack!_

_ he will not cry in front of **Him**. will not, no matter how much this is ripping his soul out, which seems to piss Him off rather a lot. He kicks Gwen, and she shrieks. Jack clenches his eyes shut and tries to block it out._

_ it doesn't work._

The next randomly assigned physical a month and a half later goes better than the last one. Everyone's taking care of themselves, if not well, then at least they've all improved—Tosh's eye problems have lessened, which Owen is strangely and deeply grateful for, and for which he takes full credit—but the blood work brings up a problem for Gwen.

"I am _not_ pregnant!" she exclaims insistently. "I'm on birth control!"

"It's not one hundred per-cent effective," Owen points out. She pouts at him, and he finds it difficult not to think it's cute. "Hormones don't lie, Gwen."

"Maybe it screwed up," she says gesturing to the computer.

"If you don't believe _this_ sophisticated piece of machinery," Owen tells her crisply, "then go pee on a stick."

"We're having a baby."

"I'm pregnant."

"Good news! I'm pregnant. Bad news! I don't think Torchwood has a maternity policy."

"I had an abortion."

Her face in the mirror stares back at her miserably, and she knows the one thing she _can't_ do.

Sometimes, when it's night and everyone's gone home, he goes and sits with Myfanwy and tells her his problems, no matter how small they are. Myfanwy doesn't judge him; she doesn't mouth back or tell him he's insane. She coos at him in her weird way and takes chocolate right out of his hand. It's almost disturbingly comforting, and he thinks she's more effective than any therapist could be.

He is glad, though, that none of the others know he does it. He tries not to, but he does care what they think—and they would think that it's all because of Jack.

It is, in a way. Jack built him up again after Lisa, gave him a purpose, gave his life some sort of twisted meaning—a meaning that was built around _Jack_. He's sure it wasn't on purpose; Jack's a bastard, but he's not evil. He's just trying to build himself up again. It's hard, and it's slow going, but it's _going_. He tells this to Myfanwy one night, petting her crest and nestled up to her neck. He's still got a purpose. He knows he does.

And if he can somehow get enough of himself back to live beyond it, he's sure he can be at least content.

They don't have a baby shower. Between aliens and reports and trying to write programs, they just don't find the time.

It's just as well, she supposes. Gwen would be even more broken up about it if they'd had one.

Miscarriages, she supposes, are hard on everyone.

_ fuck off, you stupid, putrid piece of shit!_

_ jack struggles. **He** laughs and Owen screams a curse again. he's missing his legs and his arms and an eye. and his nose. jack's not sure how Owen's even alive, anymore. _

_look at him, He chuckles. look, look, look. He giggles madly and practically skips over to where jack is hanging._

_jack screams furiously, not a word but a primal shout. and Owen screams back, SHUT UP, HARKNESS_

_i'm sorry!_

_He laughs again and puts His arm around jack's sore, abused shoulders. you can help him, He says, laugh barely contained. He holds out a knife, dangling it in front of jack. you can help him with this. let him go._

_what?_

_do it! Owen shouts. i fucking dare you! do it!_

_He backs off and tosses the knife on the ground. one of the guards lets jack out of his restraints. jack stares at Owen, who is mostly torso, then looks at Him._

_he picks up the knife. Owen stares and screams._

_i'm sorry._

_and even though he promised himself, he cries._

He's not surprised Rhys asked Gwen to marry him. It took the idiot long enough, and all.

When she comes in, flashing the ring and laughing for the first time in weeks, he oohs and ahs like the others.

He knows she regrets their fling, but he can't. He's over her, but she was _his_ for a while, and he's having a hard time putting that part behind him.

But he can't help being happy for her, and his congratulations are genuine.

The day she realises that Jack has been gone for 3 months is the day Gwen realises she's over him.

It's a good feeling.

They've been chasing the blowfish for almost an hour. It's scary, and tiring, and Tosh would really just like to go home, especially once they get inside and ten times as much when she realises that the thing has a gun. She knows Ianto, and while his aim is good, he's never killed a sentient creature before. She's not sure he can do it, and he doesn't look too sure, either.

And then—

_does this belong to you?_

_ jack almost throws up. it's Ianto—he's somehow in one piece, if a little bloody._

_ Ianto. Ianto is alive, somehow. alive. he's. jack swallows, because he is so confused. not for nothing, Ianto isn't the member of his team that he expected to live through any of this. he'd thought Ianto had died already, probably in the Himalayas._

_ yes, jack says, voice shaky because there is **no way** this will end well. yes, he's mine._

_ Ianto gives him a soft, sad smile as He laughs._

_ just as I thought, He says. he said he knew you. if you know what I mean._

_ He laughs madly and shoves Ianto away. Ianto starts toward jack, though for what possible reason jack can't fathom. there's nothing he can **do**. He grabs Ianto by the hair and pulls him back._

_ silly boy, He says mirthfully. stay by your Master._

_ Ianto glares, but doesn't say anything._

_ so, he's your little fuck-toy, huh? He asks. _

_ it wasn't like that! jack shouts. it wasn't. it wasn't._

_ he thinks he may have gone a bit mad, but Ianto's staring at him like he's never seen anything quite like him before._

_ then Ianto punches Him hard in the mouth and the guards open fire._

_ jack's just glad he didn't have to touch him._

Jack comes back on a Tuesday. Ianto'd thought he'd be happier to see him or at least angry, but he's just sort of annoyed. Relieved that he doesn't have to pull the trigger, but still annoyed.

When he brings up the date, Ianto just figures Jack's trying to get in his pants.

When it actually happens a week later, he wonders how much things have changed, between them and in Jack himself.

Jack dreams badly, but having someone near-by to hold him when he wakes up screaming is a fucking blessing. They're alive. It didn't happen. They're alive. This is reality.

It's so good to be home.


End file.
